Run Away With Me : A fast-paced psychological thriller Read online

  RUN AWAY WITH ME

  DANIEL HURST

  www.danielhurstbooks.com

  Copyright © 2021 by Daniel Hurst

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Run Away With Me

  PROLOGUE

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  27

  28

  29

  30

  31

  32

  33

  34

  35

  36

  37

  38

  39

  40

  41

  42

  43

  44

  45

  46

  47

  48

  49

  50

  51

  52

  53

  54

  55

  56

  57

  58

  59

  60

  EPILOGUE

  A Letter from the Author

  Also By Daniel Hurst

  About The Author

  “A criminal will always return to the scene of the crime.”

  Proverb

  PROLOGUE

  ‘It amazes me what people think they can get away with these days.’

  It was a simple statement from one police officer to another as they remained crouched down amongst the trees, out of view from the property before them.

  Everything seemed to be going to plan inside the small cottage right now, but they knew the suspect was in there and things could go wrong at any second. This was a dangerous criminal they were dealing with, and while they hoped to take them alive, they knew there might be a more gruesome ending to this investigation.

  It had taken the police a while to find this hideaway in the Cumbrian countryside, but now that they had, they weren’t going to take their eyes off the property until they had the suspect in handcuffs.

  The police officers remained in position as they waited for the suspect to emerge, despite the darkening clouds overhead that threatened to dump rain onto this exposed hillside. But it would take a lot more than bad weather to make them give up. After all, they had an adage to prove correct.

  It was an adage that was as old as time.

  You can run, but you can’t hide.

  1

  LAURA

  I feel the kicking in my stomach and place my left hand on my swollen skin again. It’s not painful, but it’s not comfortable either. I love the feeling of life growing inside me, and know I should cherish moments like this because they will be over soon, but still, nobody likes being kicked if they can help it.

  But it’s not for long. My baby is due any day now, and I can’t wait to meet my little boy. However, I’m also aware that kicking will be the least of my problems when he does finally enter this world. Then I’ll have to deal with dirty nappies, breastfeeding and even less sleep than I’m getting right now.

  The joys of motherhood.

  Those who have already gone through the experience tell me that it is worth it in the end and I believe them. I can’t wait to be a mum and hold Samuel in my arms. That’s going to be his name.

  Samuel Peter Stevenson.

  Samuel because both me and my husband, Adam, miraculously agreed on a name in the end, and Peter because that was my late father’s name and I want to honour him somehow even though he won’t be here to meet his grandson when the big day eventually comes.

  I wish my dad was still here to experience this exciting time with me, but he was taken by cancer at sixty-seven. Mum passed away a couple of years before that, but I hadn’t seen too much of her in her last few years ever since she walked out on Dad for another man. But I’m still lucky enough to have a great extended family, and I have been leaning on Adam’s sister, Kat, for support during my pregnancy. She has been amazing throughout these last nine months as I’ve swelled up and become irritable, offering me advice as a mother to two of her own, and I know she is going to be just as helpful when Samuel is born, not least of which when it comes to babysitting him so Adam and I can have the occasional date.

  But right now, the prospect of a date with my husband seems a long way away.

  I use the remote control to check the time on the television and see that it has ticked past nine in the evening. Adam assured me he would be back by now, but I’m still waiting for him, not that I’m mad. He is at a leaving party for one of the guys in his office, so I don’t mind that he has been out having fun tonight while I’ve been stuck on the sofa with my massive bump and old episodes of Friends. Besides, he should enjoy himself while he can.

  There won’t be much time for partying when Samuel is born, that’s for sure.

  I place the remote control back down on the sofa beside me and let out a deep sigh as my unborn child continues to pummel me from within. The concept of partying seems a lifetime ago now as I lie here and count down the days until I become a mother for the first time, but I can’t complain. I had a good run. More than a good run, in fact.

  I didn’t settle down and get married until I was thirty-five, and Samuel will be coming along just one month after my thirty-eighth birthday. I’m not exactly a spring chicken when it comes to parenthood, but this is exactly how I planned it. I always wanted to be an older mum. I knew that having a baby would be a wonderful thing but that it would change my life forever, so I ensured that I did all the things that I wanted to do before I even thought about trying to conceive. I went to university. I travelled the world. I spent my weekends in various nightclubs and bars singing loudly to cheesy music. I had several boyfriends and got all the good, bad, strange and downright dirty sex out of my system. And I even found the time to climb the career ladder at work, making it all the way up to the position of Health and Safety Compliance Manager at the Housing Association where I have worked ever since I turned thirty and added a semblance of adult responsibility to my life. I’ve ticked off everything I’ve ever wanted to do, including getting married to a wonderful man, and now it’s time for the last thing on my list.

  It’s time to be a mum.

  I’ve enjoyed the start to my maternity leave, and even though I know it will be a lot different when Samuel is here to spend it with me, I am already debating whether or not I want to go back to work when my leave is up. I have a feeling I won’t want to leave my smiling baby boy once he arrives, so perhaps being a stay-at-home mum is the next step in my evolution. It’s a far cry from the woman I used to be in my twenties when I spent more time on the town than I did in a house, but now I’m hurtling t
owards forty and things have changed. I’m content to stay in and watch television instead of going out drinking and dancing now. I’m happy enough to spend my money on baby clothes and toys instead of shoes and handbags for myself. And I’m certainly settled enough with the love of my husband who worships me and will do anything for me and the family we are creating.

  I met Adam on one of my typical boozy weekends four years ago, and for the first time in my life, I actually felt like I had found a guy I wanted to see more than just for sex and the occasional date. It was a big step for me to forgo my fun-filled life as a singleton and commit myself to one man, but that’s what I did when we began dating seriously. The wedding that followed two years later was the ultimate act to prove to myself, my family and my friends that I had actually grown up and become a more civilised member of society, instead of the drunken and debauched spinster they expected me to be forever. Now here I am sitting in my jogging pants and sipping a glass of water while I wait for my husband to come home and tell me about his fun night. I haven’t touched a drop of alcohol in nine months, and I haven’t worn anything sexy for close to twelve.

  It’s official.

  I really am an adult now.

  Not that Adam is out there having all the fun that I can’t. He is driving tonight, which means he’ll have only had two drinks at most during the party. I’m quite pleased about that because it means he won’t come home tipsy and smelling of booze and remind me of all the fun I could have been having if I hadn’t gone and got myself “with child.” But Adam isn’t the type of guy who would go out and get drunk while his partner is pregnant anyway, even if he wasn’t driving tonight. That’s because he knows how tough these last nine months have been for me and what my body is having to go through, and he has always done whatever he can to be supportive. That means he never drinks a beer or glass of wine in front of me when he knows that I can’t. It means he doesn’t talk about how much weight he is losing at the gym when he knows that I’m piling on the pounds. And he never goes into too much detail about the social events he is attending because he doesn’t want to make me jealous, instead just saying he will be home a little later than usual on occasion and leaving it at that.

  He really is great, and I can’t wait to see him with Samuel. I know he will be an amazing father. But I am a little surprised that he isn’t home yet. He had promised me he would be back by nine at the latest and it’s now quarter past. Perhaps he got chatting to a colleague and couldn’t get away. Maybe there’s a problem on the roads and he’s been forced to take a different route home.

  Or what if he’s been in an accident and is lying lifeless by the roadside somewhere, leaving me behind as a widow with a child to raise by myself?

  I push the last thought from my mind quickly because it is a ridiculous one. Adam isn’t dead. He will be home any minute now and he will be here to help me bring this baby into the world. Of course he will and thank god too, because the thought of doing it on my own is terrifying. I need his support during the birth, and I’ll certainly need it through all the long days and nights when Samuel needs feeding, changing and soothing. The scary thoughts of losing Adam never really came to me until I got pregnant, but now, they seem to come all the time. That’s because I know I would be lost without him. But let’s hope it never comes to that. There’s no reason to think it would.

  It’s two minutes later when I hear the car pulling onto our driveway, and I smile because my worst fears haven’t been realised today. My husband is home. Everything is going to be alright. But then the front door opens and I hear Adam calling out to me in a desperate tone, and I realise how foolish I was for thinking everything was going to be okay.

  Everything is not okay.

  In fact, everything is now ruined.

  2

  LAURA

  ‘Slow down. You’re not making any sense.’

  My words are meant to calm my husband down enough so that I can get a clearer understanding of what he is saying, but they don’t seem to have worked. He’s still just as breathless and agitated as when he first came through the door ten seconds ago.

  ‘He came out of nowhere. I didn’t even see him!’ Adam cries, and that’s the first time I’ve been able to make some sense out of the jumble of words that have poured out of his mouth ever since he got home.

  ‘Who did?’

  ‘The guy!’

  ‘What guy? What are you talking about?’

  I know I’m bombarding him with questions, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve never seen my husband like this before, and I’m worried. He’s usually so calm, and he’s usually the one who has to deal with my drama. Seeing Adam so worked up is almost as frightening to me as that thought I had about him not making it home at all.

  ‘The guy I hit!’ Adam cries, and I can see the fear in his eyes as he looks at me.

  That does not sound good.

  ‘You hit someone? At the party?’

  ‘No, not at the party!’ Adam replies with a snarl as if it’s my fault for not understanding his predicament right now. ‘With my car!’

  Now it’s my turn to start panicking.

  ‘You hit someone with your car?’

  ‘I didn’t see them. Honestly, I didn’t!’

  ‘Adam, what happened?’ I demand to know, and it must have been my stern use of his name that snaps him out of it because he suddenly stops pacing around and looks me in the eye.

  ‘I was driving down Moor Lane, and I swear I only took my eyes off the road for a second,’ he says with his voice trembling. ‘When I looked up again, he was right in front of me. I couldn’t get out of the way in time. He went straight over the bonnet. What the hell was he doing out on the lane at this time of night?’

  ‘Where is he now?’ I ask, trying to think practically even though I can already feel my carefully planned life starting to fall apart around me.

  ‘He’s still on the road,’ Adam replies, and for a second he looks like he is going to be sick. But our new carpet is the least of my worries.

  ‘Is he okay? Did you call an ambulance?’ I ask, terrified of the answer because I know that involving the emergency services will make it even more real, but what else is supposed to happen next?

  ‘No,’ Adam says meekly with a shake of the head.

  ‘What do you mean? You can’t just leave him there! You have to see if he’s okay! He might have seen you! He might have called the police!’

  ‘He hasn’t done any of that.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  Adam takes a few seconds to answer me, but when he does, I wish he hadn’t.

  ‘Because he’s dead.’

  3

  LAURA

  It’s been ten minutes since Adam came home and told me he had been involved in a hit and run just a couple of miles from our house. It’s been five minutes since I stopped screaming at him and begging him to go back to the scene. And it’s been two minutes since he persuaded me not to call the police.

  ‘I’ll go to prison,’ he had said as I stood shaking in the hallway with the phone in my hand and my finger ready to dial the third number nine in a row. ‘They won’t care if it was an accident. The guy is dead. They won’t just give me a slap on the wrist and let me go.’

  While I was afraid my husband was right, I’d tried to tell him that the police would understand if he just told them the truth.

  ‘The guy had been standing in the road. There was no way you could have avoided him. As long as you weren’t speeding or driving under the influence, then they’ll see that it was an accident. But you can’t just leave him there. That’s a crime!’

  I should have known by my husband’s silence then that there was more to it, but it was only when I went to press the last digit that would connect me to the emergency services when he told me the rest.

  ‘I had three beers at the party,’ he had confessed. ‘I’m over the limit. They’ll lock me up, Laura. I’ll get five years at least. Maybe ten!’

&
nbsp; The phone had fallen from my hand at that point, but that wasn’t the reason why I hadn’t called anybody yet. The reason was because Adam was right. If the police did come to the scene of the accident and speak to my husband, they would breathalyse him, and they would find out he had been over the limit when he had hit that poor man. Then they would slap handcuffs on him and take him away, and I’d be left on my own, not just for tonight but for several years.

  Except I wouldn’t be on my own. I’d have a baby to bring up.

  I just wouldn’t have Adam around to help me do it.

  We’re sitting on the sofa together now, but we’re far from close. Adam is leaning forward in his seat with his head in his hands whilst I’m trying not to have a panic attack in case I go into labour and make this night even more of a disaster than it already is. But we can’t stay like this for long. We have to decide what we are going to do.

  ‘Is your car damaged?’ I ask, feeling ashamed to even be going down this particular route rather than talking to the police, which would be the right thing to do.

  Adam shakes his head.

  ‘That’s good,’ I say, which is laughable because there is nothing good about this situation. But perhaps there is a way out of this. If nobody saw him, and there’s no evidence of damage on the car, then maybe nobody has to know that it was my husband who killed that man by accident tonight.

  But then Adam speaks again, and I realise that there isn’t a way out of this at all.

  ‘There are cameras on that lane,’ he says, looking up at me with tear-stained eyes. ‘Somebody will find the body and when they do, the police will check the CCTV. They’ll see my car drive past, and they’ll get the registration number. Then they’ll come here and ask me where I was. I can’t face that, Laura. I can’t do it.’

  Adam buries his face in his hands again, and I’m almost mad at him for being so useless at a time when I need him more than ever. But most of all, I’m mad because he is right. There are cameras on that lane. The police will be able to see exactly who drove along it and at what time. Based on the time of day the accident occurred and how remote the lane is, I doubt there has been much traffic along there since then to add to the list of suspects.